“definitely”

Jennifer was the sister that the boys didn’t have. She and my oldest, Ben, were both fifteen, and Stephen, my other son, was eleven. If they had not liked each other it would have been hell. When Keith moved in with me, he also moved in with my boys. Of course, Jennifer was part of the equation, except she lived with her mom more than she lived with us.

Keith and I were lucky because our teenagers and preteen were willing to make the effort to be a family. We were all working hard at creating a new family. Combined family means combing habits, traditions, discipline, routines, respect, friendship, and love. This incorporated many external considerations, like recognition that our children had, not just our new family to navigate in, but also another home and parent, and relationships in those families.

By that age kids have their parents pretty well figured out. They had already worked out how to push our buttons; when to push, the best route to get what they wanted, and when to give it up. The kids also knew what their parent was pushover about. Did I mention compromise in that combined family definition?

It's one thing to know that you are letting your child sucker you. Because they are good and don’t get in trouble, clean their rooms, and do their homework, you sometimes bend the rules and allow them to have their way. Sometimes being the pertinent word. It is quite another thing to watch your partner’s child manipulate him to get her way. Better add tolerance to the definition list for the combined family.

There were areas in which parenting styles clashed, but for the most part, we were making it work.

One of the most notable differences had to do with the fact that I had my boys full-time, except those two weekends or less a month when they were with their dad. It was their home we lived in and they were used to sharing it with each other. Jen, on the other hand, was an only child, and as a girl had a different relationship with her father. Keith was a good dad, but there were areas in which his parenting skills were weak. Well, that is a bit of an understatement. I would say clueless would be more accurate than weak. Jennifer, of course, used this to her advantage.

As mentioned, Keith was clueless about some things, one of which was the fact that his little girl was growing up. One time there were close to a dozen teenage boys (at least it seemed so) sitting around our living room. Jen was in her element. She was a particularly vivacious girl who was very popular with the boys. Having the time of her life, she was flitting among her suitors. Being fair-minded she was giving each of the boys equal attention by hopping into the lap of each boy. After a few minutes of sitting on a boy’s lap and flirting she would then hop into the lap of the next boy. This was especially hard on one of the boys in particular. He was a great big giant boy who was waiting to grow into himself and out of being clumsy. He was an athlete, struggled some with school work and communication, and had a low frustration level. He also had a crush on Jennifer and from what I gathered thought that she was his girlfriend. I tried to keep out of all of that business but I could see trouble brewing. Ken's face was getting red but he wasn’t saying anything.

Keith was interacting with the kids in the same room and it was all happy. I came into the room and noticed what was happening. I pulled him aside into the kitchen and pointed out that her behavior wasn’t appropriate. He had been unaware, but once he saw what she was doing his reaction was anything but subtle. He stomped into the living room, through the boys, and yelled at top volume, “Jennifer!"

She turned beet red to match her hair and jumped straight out of the boy's lap and into the air. Poor thing, one minute she was having fun, seemingly with her father's approval. The next minute she was disgraced and had an enraged father sending her…..where? Not to her room because she didn’t have one. All the boys left in a hurry and we decided to make a room for Jen.

Having a girl child around was all new to me. It was so very different than raising boys. Jennifer was a delightful girl and I enjoyed having another female to team up with. She helped balance out the male-dominated energy in our house. She was at that age in which she was still child enough to romp and be silly with the boys and at other times was quite the young woman. When her father was being a typical man (which he did so adorably), or just being thick-headed (not so adorable), we would exchange glances and in her eyes was all the inherent wisdom of womanhood throughout the ages.

The next minute she would be doing that thing….making that noise…..you know that loud, high-pitched shriek/giggle girl thing, that until then, I had never experienced up close. At first, it was fascinating; You could watch her bubbly personality bubble up until it bubbled right out of the top of her head and onto the carpet. She would then sort of explode, quickly followed by an implosion that would send her to down on top of her personality. There, on the carpet would be what was left of poor Jen, a quivering mess of hormones. No one, least of all Jen, herself, knew how to put her back together right away. I learned two things: a) 15 + Female = oh Lord y! Watch out because that equation is trouble. b) After the initial amazement, the fascination factor dropped fast. I learned to spot the signs and became notably not around.

Jennifer was beautiful and had an adorable figure. She had red hair and a personality to match. I enjoyed watching her as she bloomed and explored territory along her journey into womanhood. Jennifer was just beginning to discover her power over boys. She was very popular with all of Ben’s friends.

During the times that Jen was with us, the house would fill with teenage boys. It was as if a wireless signal had been sent. I still don’t understand how they knew she was with us because it wasn’t always regular and when it was, did all those boys actually keep track of her weekends with us? Ben had friends in different groups that didn’t hang out with each other but would randomly show up at the same time when Jen was there. Lucky timing I guess.

She was her daddy’s little girl and of course not seeing her every day made their time together more special. She could have taken advantage of these factors and would have been able to manipulate him, more than she did. We worked through issues with lots of communication, better add that word to the Combined Family Factors.

One issue that took a bit of communicating among all of us was chores. Often during the week, there wasn’t time between homework and sporting practices for the chores, so on the weekends we would catch up on things. My sons had certain chores that were expected of them. It didn’t seem right for Jen to be exempt from chores as she was part of the family and just as messy as anyone of us. It was creating some resentment and her being put in the position of permanent guest wasn’t what we were working toward. Yet on the other hand, she hadn’t been with us during the week, except in summer. Her contribution to the mess was smaller, why should she have to spend her time with her dad doing chores at our house. She had her own chores at her other house. In the big picture, it was a small thing to work out and everyone having a voice

helped Keith and I come up with a solution that worked. Jen pitched in without complaint and helped the boys with their chores and was a trouper about working with us on what needed the most attention, who was short on time or had gotten behind, and on any special projects.

One of these projects was initiated because our house was very small. Each of the boys had a small bedroom, very small. It just wouldn’t have worked to combine their rooms at that age, even as much as Jennifer needed a room also.

She had been sleeping on the couch. This was a problem in many ways. Privacy is an important element for all teenagers and Jennifer deserved to have a space of her own. Keith and I needed to be able to be alone in the house. outside the bedroom sometimes too.

This was a project that was easier said than done. The undertaking seemed logical enough. The house was small and the only unused space was a dank partial basement. For the love of his daughter, Jerry spearheaded the quest to dig out more of the basement area to create another room.

We had free labor; child labor. It was a mandatory family project and we formed assembly lines. The Bucket Brigade passed buckets of dirt up the steep, narrow stairway and outside. This required a lot of work and my boys were ready to rebel. It was a balancing act. I needed to make sure they had some free time. And really, their interest in the outcome didn’t provide them any personal incentive. In their minds, this amounted to forced slave labor. It wasn’t up for debate. They were required to help. Their friends came around less and less during this project.

It took a lot of effort and time digging out that basement a bucket at a time. Slowly the space was created as the buckets of dumped dirt piled up in the backyard. Unfortunately, I had not had much forethought about those buckets of dirt. I hadn’t envisioned this part of the project or given specific instructions in this area. Left to their own, the kids naturally took the shortest route and dumped the bucks just outside the back door.

When the digging portion of the project was almost done and I turned my attention elsewhere, I realized that there was a mountain of dirt outside the back door. When we went out to the back yard we had to climb over this small mountain. Before our large, harry dog could come into the house, into my lovely clean kitchen with white floor-length cabinets near the back door, he had to plow over the mountain. Due to the almost constant rain in winter, our mountain turned into Mud Mountain.

I would give you the simple advice that when dealing with dirt, always know beforehand where you intend to put it.

Jennifer ended up with a pretty new room in the basement and our little family had an achievement to bond over.

Then I told the kids they were going to have to move Mud Mountain. That is a different story with a much less cooperative feel to it. The Mud Mountain move was accomplished with an outright dictatorship, mutiny, and some other less pleasant emotions. But, when this too was accomplished, we treated the kids to a trip to Disney Land.

Have you ever slept with five people in a studio hotel room? What about five people in a studio hotel room when two of them are fifteen. OK, when one of them is an eleven-year-old who has just seen the movie The Rain Man and the only thing out of his mouth the entire stay is a quote from the movie, actually repeating the same quote over and over “definitely”, using the voice of an actor playing the role of someone who has autism. Even his big sister couldn’t get him to stop.

We survived that too.